


just a little boy // she

by littlejeanniebean



Category: Fine Line - Harry Styles (Album)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlejeanniebean/pseuds/littlejeanniebean
Summary: He watches his father drift away from him, his sister, and his mother.
Kudos: 2





	just a little boy // she

Boy and Girl didn't know it yet, but it would be their last cooked breakfast for a while. 

Girl would come to hate the smell of bacon. Boy would remember the static silence and being afraid to disturb it by talking too loud or moving too much. 

Man and Woman move around their cozy kitchen with a familiarity that is neither warm nor comforting. They know how to avoid further confrontation and, after the words they had exchanged the night before, do so religiously.

"Alright, let's get you lot to school, then," Man speaks his first words of the day. 

Boy and Girl kiss Woman goodbye and wait for Man to do so. He presses his lips together, then to her cheek for a millisecond and quickly mumbles something about starting the car. 

It was nine on the dot when he drops them off with a hollow but sincere, "Learn something good today. Love you both."

In the early afternoon, Woman calls Man at the office, but his assistant picks up instead.

"Just give me a mo' and I'll patch you through. Just grabbin' 'im a coffee..." he says, polite but harried.

"Oh, I thought I sent 'im off with one, didn't I?" Woman checks the shelf where Man's thermos usually sits and it's vacant. 

"Er, I know s'not really my place, ma'am, but it's just..."

"S'alright, go ahead."

"Well... he doesn't really like milky coffee, is all," there is intense shuffling over the phone line, "At least not just past lunch," he adds quickly.

"Oh, I see. Thank you for telling me."

"Right, I'm putting you through now."

A few hours later, Woman picks up Boy and Girl from school and sends them upstairs to do their homework. Two hours pass before they hear Man come home and start down the stairs, but Girl grabs Boy's hand to stop on the landing as their voices become clearer through the walls.

"- could have told me," said Woman. Boy could imagine her crossing her arms the way she does - not because she's mad, but because she didn't want you to know she was hurt.

"I didn't want to upset you."

"You need to _talk_ to me. I hardly ever see you. I hardly ever _hold_ you. We hardly ever -" she drops her voice suddenly and the next thing they hear is, "I just… I feel like I don't know who you are anymore."

"I'm sorry," said Man, "I mean that… Do you really mean you want to hear me out?"

" _Yes_ ," relief floods her voice, "Yes, I do. That's _all_ I want."

They can hear Man shuffling his feet. It's got more weight to it than when Woman does it. Boy imagines him looking at his nice brown loafers, adjusting the gold band to sit better on his finger. He feels Girl's bitten nails digging into his wrist and thinks to himself that he thought she'd quit the habit. He's eager for the tension that's been laying low like smog in their home to dissipate. All Man has to say is - 

"I feel like I don't know how to talk to you anymore."

That wasn't it. 

"Wh-what do you mean?" Woman is confused too.

"I just… I don't know how to… I think - I - I picture us having certain conversations in my head and… and how you'd respond - how I _think_ you'd respond and…"

"And what?"

"And when I say it out loud, it doesn't happen like that - and that's fine, don't get me wrong. It's just… I feel like we used to be able to finish each other's sentences and now…"

"Now I don't even know how you like your coffee," Woman finished with a bitter choke, "I'm sorry…" 

"No, I am. _I'm_ sorry. Okay? I'm so sorry..."

Boy's lips are quivering. Then Girl thunders down the remaining steps loudly and offers to help make dinner. 

He's not as good at hiding his distress as she is and Woman gives him a kiss on the top of his head.

That night, Boy hears weighty footsteps in the hallway. He creeps downstairs and hears the front door click shut. He follows Man's shadowed figure out the gate, across the dewy countryside, to the small pond where the neighbourhood families liked to picnic.

Man removes his shoes and allows his toes to sink into the muddy shore. He watches the still, moonlit water for hours while Boy watches him from behind a thick, clumpy bush. Man inhales the cool night air and exhales heavily, tiredly. He leans down to pick up his shoes, still staring out to the other end of the pond where the willows dipped down to wet their leaves. He doesn't turn very suddenly, but Boy had gotten sleepy and couldn't duck behind the bush fast enough.

They stand there, facing each other, but barely making out one another's features in the dark. Eventually, Man walks towards him, places a large hand on his slight shoulders and turns him towards home.

Boy doesn't know what to say. What he _can_ say. Neither does Man. 

They walk back through the gate that their family had walked through so many times before. They step back inside the front door that their family had stepped inside so many occasions prior. Up the stairs, down the hall. Man gets back into bed next to Woman. Familiar. Neither warm nor cold. Neither comforting nor disdainful. 

Boy shuts the door to his room. He's crying. He doesn't know why. 

In the morning, Woman has Boy and Girl sit on the couch.

"I have something to tell you both," her eyes are glassy as she tells them that Man moved out, "We just need to give him some time to get settled. Then we can see him."

Girl, who for all of Boy's life has been bigger than him, shrinks into herself, drawing up her long legs to hide her face. Woman sits between them and they make room for her.

"Is it better this way?" asks Girl.

"Oh… Oh, I… I think… I know you hate it when I say this but… you'll understand when you're older. The important thing to remember is that he loves you. We both do. So much. So, _so_ much. We love you. And we'll always be here for you, right here," she touched the middle of Girl's chest, "Right here," she touched the middle of Boy's chest, "We'll always be a family."

That night, Girl leaves the door to her room open. She likes to be alone when bad things happen. Like when the other girls make fun of her clothes or her books. Like when their cat died. But she knows Boy likes to be around people. Needs it, even. And sure enough, he tiptoes in five minutes after lights out. 

He leans down and whispers into the blanket burrito, "Are you awake?" 

She lifts the covers in response and he cuddles in.

"We'll always be a family," he whispers.

It isn't a question, but she answers with so much certainty, "Yes."

"We'll always love each other."

"Always."

"We won't be afraid to talk to each other."

"Never."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Many years later, Boy is eating something that puts him in a dream-like state. He's in a good place and hasn't thought about those days for a very long time. He scribbles some things down, reclining next to Friend who's plucking at a funny instrument he can't remember the name of when he's on this high, but _damn_ can Friend make it sound good.

Someone else cracks a joke. Boy didn't hear all of it and doesn't know why it's funny but he laughs because everyone is happy and he's happy and that's all very, very good.

Boy didn't know it yet, but a few months from then, someone would ask him if he's messed up in the head because of what happened and he would say no, he's fine. And he is. He is doing just fine.


End file.
